


All We Know of Heaven

by swingandswirl



Category: DCU - Comics
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, M/M, Post-Death Of Superman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10654629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swingandswirl/pseuds/swingandswirl
Summary: When Superman envisioned coming out, he thought it would be at a press conference or something. Not being kissed senseless by his husband in the middle of a battlefield. Written as a birthday present for taro_twist on LJ.





	All We Know of Heaven

Then…

_  
Bruce hates the news crews that are currently circling the scene like vultures, hates that they can’t give his husband privacy even in death, but at the same time, he is grateful. Grateful that he can at least have this, even as  Superman  lies, broken and bleeding, in the arms of the woman they both call sister. He touches the screen with trembling hands, wishing he could hold his lover instead. _

_ “Kal! If you can hear me- what am I saying, of course you can, elokyn- don’t you dare give up! Goddamnit, Kal, you don’t get to die, you hear me? Not now, not like this. Not until we’re both old and grey and halfway to senility. You can’t leave me, Kal,  I won’t let you. You just flattened Doomsday, don’t you dare die on me now!”  Voice softer now, a hint of a sob. “I can’t… I can’t do this alone, love. I need you with me, Kal. Please don’t leave me, don’t die, elokyn, please…” _

_  
On the screen, Kal lifts his head slowly, painfully, seeming to look straight at Bruce. He says one word, and Bruce’s heart shatters. _

_  
Turning off the television, he sinks to his knees, and weeps._

Now…

Bruce faced R’as Al Ghul, the two men abandoning swords for some good old-fashioned fisticuffs. Bruce fought fiercely, but his heart wasn’t in it. Hadn’t been in it since that day nine months ago (eight months, three weeks, five days) when the monster had killed Kal. Bruce wondered sometimes whether it wouldn’t have been kinder to kill him, as well.

   
His opponent sent a swift uppercut to Bruce’s jaw, followed by a dagger to the stomach. Bruce dodged the punch, but the blade caught him on the hip, and he staggered backwards. Ubu caught him, pinning Bruce’s arms behind him, shoving him to his knees, unable to move.

   
R’as pulled his broadsword out of its sheath. “You could have been great, Detective! But you have chosen to stand against me, and that will not do. I could draw this out, but I am a merciful man.” He held the blade at Bruce’s throat. “Give my regards to the alien.”

   
Bruce met the other man’s eyes squarely, refusing to be cowed.

   
One stroke, and he would be with his Starchild again. He clenched his left hand, feeling the cool metal of the ring cutting into his skin, and waited.

   
Just as he felt the faint rasp of the blade across his throat, a massive gust of wind arose, and Bruce was swept up into the air- Diana must have defeated her opponent, then. He turned, opening his mouth to say something- thanks? recriminations? He wasn’t sure which- when he noticed the strong jaw, the mass of soft curls, the hard muscles that *definitely* weren’t Diana’s… He looked up, willing himself not to hope, telling himself that this was yet another illusion. Whoever designed this one was good, he noted dimly, taking in the warmth in Kal’s eyes and the careful, but not overly possessive, way he held Bruce. Then he-it-Kal spoke.

   
“Bruce, I- Rao, love, don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again! You could have died!”

  
_ Bit rich coming from someone who actually  _ _did die_ , some demented voice in Bruce’s head piped up. How the hell did it know his name? Bruce wanted to believe, wanted to so bad, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t trust this illusion. Couldn’t lose Kal, not again. He forced himself to stay calm, to keep his tone even, cold.

   
“Put me down, simulacrum. I don’t know who created you, but rest assured I will find them and I will destroy them. Completely.”

   
The simulacrum looked shocked and… hurt? It really was quality work.

   
“I’m the real deal, Bruce, not a robot!”

   
“Prove it, then. Tell me something only you would know.”

   
“Your favourite possession is your father’s stethoscope.”

   
“Selina could have told you that. Try again.”

   
“Sometimes, when you know I’m patrolling in  Gotham , you wear a Superman t-shirt under the armour, because you know it drives me crazy to see you in my colours. You sleep on the right side of the bed, never the left, and you always hog the covers.”

   
“I… you could have found that out, somehow!”

   
Something sparked in Ka- the simulacrum’s eyes.

   
“God damn it, Bruce, I *am* Kal! I’m the man who loves you, who plans to spend the rest of our lives being your husband and our kids’ father. I died, yes, but I came back. You brought me back. Look at me, Bruce. I’m Superman, Clark  Kent , Kal-El, your teammate, your husband, your best friend, and right now, I want very much to kiss you.”

  
Bruce looked into the eyes of the man he loved.

   
And he believed.

  
“Kal…” Prayer, plea, thanksgiving, all wrapped up in that single syllable.

In response, Kal ran his thumb across Bruce’s jaw, the movement loving, sensual, reverent.

  
Uncaring that they were in the middle of a battlefield, watched by millions of people, Bruce slammed his mouth against Kal’s, pouring months of need and want and despair into a fierce, desperate kiss, tumbling through the air as Kal spun them in a dizzying arc. When he finally pulled back, need to breathe temporarily overcoming his desire to kiss his husband senseless, the cowl was wet with tears.

   
The sound of a throat clearing abruptly brought Bruce back to reality, and he looked up to see them surrounded by five very flabbergasted superheroes. Kyle’s ring and J’onn’s mind were both already scanning Kal, something Bruce would have resented if he hadn’t been aware of the fake Supermen already running around. Finally, J’onn met their eyes, joy and regret mingling in the Martian’s gaze. “I apologize for the intrusion, Kal. And… welcome back. You were sorely missed.”

   
“Kal?” Diana’s voice was a mixture of amazement, joy, and wariness. “It’s really you?”

   
Her words set off a torrent of questions, the other Leaguers talking above each other in their haste. 

   
Finally, Kal held up the arm that wasn’t holding Bruce close. “Everyone, please. I am the real Kal-El, and I swear, I’ll answer any questions you want later, but right now, I just want to be with my husband.”

   
At his pronouncement, Wally’s face registered shock, J’onn’s amusement, Diana’s satisfaction, and Kyle… was that regret?

   
J'onn, unflappable as always, was the first to respond. “Of course, Kal,” He turned to Bruce. “Take good care of him, my friend.”

   
“Yeah, and don’t worry about the cleanup, either, Big Guy!” Wally piped up, evidently having recovered from his shock. “We don’t want to see the pair of you for at least a week!”

   
Kal blushed, shooting Wally a half-amused, half-exasperated glare. Then he turned to his husband, gathered him in his arms, and flew them both home.

   
The World’s Finest were together again.

   
Everything else could wait.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written in 2008 and posted on my LiveJournal. Some light editing has been done for spelling and grammar, but for the most part I've left it as is. 
> 
>  
> 
> Title taken from Emily Dickinson:
> 
>  
> 
> _Parting is all we know of heaven,  
>  And all we need of hell._
> 
> I can't take credit for coming up with the term 'elokyn,' but I'll be damned if I remember who I borrowed it from. Likely Mithen, who writes the best S/B out there. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are, as always, appreciated.


End file.
